


Little Sister

by Steila



Series: Children Of Winter [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Awkward Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Half-Sibling Incest, Sibling Love, Sibling Rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 08:48:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9811913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steila/pseuds/Steila
Summary: Everything change between Jon and Sansa after their little sister come back to Winterfell.*********************************************************************************What Sansa had to do now was to expel her selfish feelings away and be a good sister to both Jon and Arya.Even though everything was different now, at least she had those moments with him before, when they spent their afternoons by the fireplace in his study. Their shared mug of ale and laughters.Why do I never think of the happy times? Is that the pattern of loss, to dwell upon the emptiness of today?Oh, Jon, Jon! How have I lived without you?





	

**Author's Note:**

> This work is unbeta-ed so please bear with me and forgive my mistakes; english is not my first language.

 

* * *

 

Jon and Sansa  took back Winterfell in those long nights of Winter.  
They’ve fought and won a war against Ramsay but the war amongst themselves was still raging wild.  
No matter how much Littlefinger had tried to convince her that Jon didn't need her and how he stole what was rightfully hers, she’d always felt it in her heart that Winterfell belonged to him.  
She was not meant to rule but to guide him in that journey.  
And Jon, he needed her as much as she needed him, she’d thought.  
Despite how estranged they were when they were younger, Jon, and her grew accustomed to each other and quickly became dependent on each other. Her more than him.  
She needed reassurance every night after awakening from flashes of fright and death. Her mind was hauntingly crippled by guilt over Rickon’s death that she did not mourn properly, preferring relishing in her revenge on Ramsay.  
There were nights when she could hear the little boy crying next to her for abandoning him.  
And in those nights, she would rise from her bed, run through mazes of corridors and go to her brother. The only person who could understand and bear half of her torments for her.  
Her brother would hold her in his arms and whisper words to her ears that would make her forget the unreal tears of the undead soul. He would hold her tight until her body would break down in sleep.  
They held into each other in every way possible when the nights were too long and too cold. Then, the morning would rise, the curtains of darkness would leave the sky - and everything would go back to normal. They would go about their day. Him, as the King In The North and her as his Lady of Winterfell - nightlight when she would go back to her parents old bedchamber again.  
It was a shameful thing to be so emotionally bare and naked to Jon. There were still too many unsaid conversations between them and an underlying guilt that she could not understand but she had no other choice. And Jon, he was haunted too but his demons wore different faces.

They came during the day when he had to think of many ways to rebuild Winterfell and strengthen the North. He did not feel it in his heart that he belonged to the throne they gave him.  
His insufficient wisdom in political matters became apparent, fuelled by his own insecurities. But she did not let it weigh on him. She helped where she could, supported him and reassured him even when they did not agree on everything.  
What Jon was made for was ruling men in the battlefield, igniting their loyalty and sense of honour. He was warrior born and a ruler of mass. The subtlety of politics and games frustrated him.  
He was sullen where she wanted to lighten and he was strength when she was weaknesses.  
But it did not matter, they needed each other.  
The monotony of their days of learning each other's temper and limits had a swelling sense of comfort to it. Even when the whirlwinds kept knocking the walls of Winterfell and conspiracies were whispered behind closed doors, nothing achieved to come between them until she came back.

It was a day of snowstorm, Jon and her were still abed, curled into each other with Ghost at the feet of the bed - when Winterfell opened its gates to another Stark.

Arya Stark came back from Braavos after hearing that the Stark banner was gracing the North again.  
It was a day of joy and tears. They cried into each other embrace and refused to let go.  
The day was spent into fits of laughters and sobs. The day was joyful but the night was not.

Somehow Sansa could sense that something was going to break her and she was right.  
That night Jon refused her access to the Lord bedchamber thus ending their only emotional support routine. He spoke of setting new rules and boundaries. He spoke of Arya and how much she was changed. They needed to be there for her and they could not do it by being engrossed in their own misery.  
And Sansa believed him and accepted it.  
Her brother was often wrong when it comes to political engineering but not when it comes to loving his sisters.  
She accepted it and recoiled back to her own bedchamber made of old fantasies and dreams. She asked for the maids to change the violet curtains and white fur covers into something somber and less ostentatious that would reflect her. They did but the bedchamber still felt the same. Too cold and empty.  
The day went by and everything still felt the same except that nothing was.  
Jon and her no longer crossed path. And in the rare occasions it happened, he would make sure to shorten their conversations and send her away. Sansa could not understand this apparent change in his behaviours but she said nothing. She was not used to craving for attention - it always naturally befell on her.  
She had hoped to rebuild her relationship with her sister but Arya had no time nor the patience to indulge her.  
Arya wanted to become a real soldier.  
Sansa found the idea scandalous, hoping to induce Arya into the art of ruling as a lady and the heir of Winterfell.  
Jon had given Arya no real sense of her limitations, and she always felt confident enough to participate as an adult in all conversations even the ones amongst Jon and his council members. That might have been permissible, did she not have the habit of butting in. Sansa tried many times to put a stop to such conduct - whereas Jon was a doting brother saddled with an extremely strong-willed sister that he could not control.  
He gave Arya too much latitude and Sansa knew it was not wise for Arya’s own good.  
What Arya needed was to learn her place and how to fit into it.  
Winterfell had two high born heirs now and it only made sense that a marriage would come Arya’s way now that she was of age.  
She spoke of the subject to Ser Davos and he recognised the wisdom in it. However, Jon did not find it wise and dismissed her.

 

“ You cannot think of marrying our sister off now that we got her back. Are you mad?” he’d screamed at her.

“ I'm not sending her away just for the sake of it. I want her to stay here with us, but we have to think of teaching her the right ways now before we get a marriage proposal, which would come.”

“ I'm not marrying my sister off to any men out there. I don't know where you got these ideas from, Lady Sansa but you better get them out of your head.”

She did not say a thing. She recognised in his voice a tinge of anger that had no place in such discussion. Jon was angry at her for some reasons that she could not place.

“ Fine. Don't marry her off but at least think of telling her that a lady’s place is not in the mud, sparring with men...Jon please think of.”

“ Everyone cannot be a proper lady like you. Leave Arya be and stop imposing your will on her.”

Shocked and dumbfounded she did not reply to that. How could he accuse her of such thing when she was only thinking of House Stark?

“ Have I...have I done something to upset you?”

“ And where is this coming from?” he laughed bitterly. “Just because I did not grant you your wish does not mean I'm cross with you.”

“ You know it's not right. You know nothing's like before...you do not speak to me anymore. Even when you need my counsel you send Ser Davos to me. Why is that?”

He closed his eyes in frustration. “ I want you to leave me alone for now.” he’d said so slowly Sansa almost did not hear him but his words did hurt her without mercy.

“ Jon…” she closed her mouth then closed it.

She left so fast her legs did not rest until she was closeted in her bedchamber.  
She cried for the first time since the day they took back Winterfell.  
That growing feeling of loss in her heart would not leave her alone until she wrote to Lord Baelish.  
No matter how strained her relationship with the cunning head of House Baelish had turned into, he still felt like a reassuring thought in her moment of despair.  
She wrote about her insecurities and fears of Jon pushing her away now that he got his true sister back. She told him how much she felt like an outcast in her own home.  
She spoke of her loss of purpose and taste in life. Her entire life had been built around her ladyship, since the tender age of three. It was the only thing she excelled into. Somehow, her time in King's Landing and her return in Winterfell had shattered her ladyship along with her maidenhead. Now, she did not know what to expect from life or what role she had to play. What does a Lady of Winterfell do? Tend to her King and Lord? Then, what?

She thought of her mother and how much she looked like her now. She wondered if the transcendent image of Catelyn Stark in her was what Jon resented so much.  
She wrote until the pen could no longer support her feelings and she fell asleep.

In the morning she thought it wise not to send the letter to Littlefinger. After all, it would only give that man a reason to worm a war within House Stark.  
In the morning she and Ghost went on a troll in the Godswoods. The direwolf rarely leave her sides these days. Sometimes when the aching in her heart would grow unbearable after she would catch her sister and Jon laughing while sparring in the courtyard, Ghost would appear next to her out of nowhere. Nudging her hand with his head and licking her fingers.  
Even when there were no reason at all to her melancholy, the direwolf would come anyway and nestle next to her in the bed. To her heart devastated by grief, his proximity has been balm. She wanted to keep him close all the time.  
He was not Lady but he was as quiet and obedient as her own direwolf had been.

Sansa prayed to the Old Gods and begged them to enlighten her heart. She wanted them to wash away those dark feelings of abandonment and confusion. She knew that she had nothing to envy her sister of. She knew that Jon was right that Arya was too young and therefore she needed him more than Sansa. She knew but she did not feel it nor accept it.  
Somewhere beyond the mold of good behaviors, etiquettes, and preciousness in her being, there were another message. A message that kept singing to her. Each chords and lyrics screamed that Jon was hers and hers alone. She’d found him first. She was the one who convinced him to take back Winterfell. The one who gave him a purpose and brought him back home.  
She rode an army and brought victory to him when he was helpless and swallowed alive.

He was hers alone. Hers because she saw him possessed by a consuming rage, beating a man to death for hurting her.  
She saw those black irises dilated with bloodlust over her soiled honor. No, she could not give him back to the sister who was not there.

But it was wrong. And she had no right.  
Arya had been Jon’s little sister when she, Sansa refused to acknowledge his existence, over something he could not control. Arya loved him first and accepted him.

What Sansa had to do now was to expel her selfish feelings away and be a good sister to both Jon and Arya.  
Even though everything was different now, at least she had those moments with him before, when they spent their afternoons by the fireplace in his study. Their shared mug of ale and laughters.

 _Why do I never think of the happy times? Is that the pattern of loss, to dwell upon the emptiness of today?_  
_Oh, Jon, Jon! How have I lived without you?_

Sansa lingered in the Godswood for so long until her bones begged for warmth and Ghost grew impatient. She brought him back to the castle wherein they were welcomed by a storm.

Jon and Arya had come to her that morning to speak to her about the obvious issues between them but they did not find her. What they found was her letter to Lord Baelish. Her little sister had found it adequate to read the letter to Jon.

Frightened, Sansa was welcomed by a long list of reproaches and insults from Arya as soon as she walked into the room.

“ You could not help it, don't you? You want to betray us now! You couldn't help the treacherous side of you!” Arya shouted.

Jon gave her that stern look that meant that he agreed with every words Arya had said.

“ What is this about?” she stuttered, still confused and affected by Jon’s presence in her bedchamber.

“ Please, don't lie to us. You wrote to that snake Littlefinger! “Arya said, shoving the parchment onto Sansa’s chest. She swayed and took a step back. Her eyes widened when they landed on the letter. Her first reaction was shame and fear.  
Jon could not know what she wrote she did not think of him incapable of ruling. She knew he was a good king. She trusted him but she was confused and angry at him. What she wrote meant nothing. She had explained but Arya and Jon would not have it.

“ Did you really write to that man that Winterfell belongs to you by right because your are high born and I'm a bastard?” He said with calm that carried more rage than Arya’s screams and insults that Sansa was struggling to block out.

Sansa walked to Jon, trying to keep his gaze on hers. He needed to see her, to see the truth.

“ Jon..Please listen to me...I did not send it to him. It mean nothing. I was sad and confused. I said things because you did hurt me. Because you refuse to listen to me. You treat me like I'm beneath you…”

“ Because you are beneath him, stupid! He is the King” Arya cut her, advancing at her with anger.

Ghost inserted himself in the middle of her and Arya, baring his teeth at the younger Stark.  
Arya stopped in her fiery track staring down at the direwolf in shock.

“ Ghost stop” Sansa shouted, her own heartbeat racing with fear.

“ I knew you would do this to us. I knew that your ego could not handle to see Jon on the throne and now you are plotting against him like you did father.”

“ How dare you?” Sansa shouted feeling her entire body screaming with indignation. “ You were not here when I brought an army and helped him take back Winterfell. You were assassinating people.”  
Sansa saw her words slap Arya into silence. Her gray eyes widened with fury.

But Sansa would not let her disrupt this moment. She did not care about what Arya thought of her. What she needed was to convince Jon that she was no threat to him. She loved him and would never betray him.

“ Jon, you are my brother and I love you…”her voice broke. her words struggled to push through the painful tightness in her throat. “ I want you to believe me when I'm telling you that I will never betray my brother or my king.”

Jon closed his eyes and clenched his fist. He opened his eyes and dove his gaze onto hers. There were so much pain in him, she could not bear it. “Sansa…”

“ You betrayed father!” Arya shouted and turned around to face Jon. “ Jon, she went to Cersei Lannister and told her that father wanted to leave with us. Sansa did that to our own father!” she screamed her voice getting louder with each intake of breath. “You think she would treat you with more consideration? “

“ No! No! I did not do it because I wanted to betray father. I was a fool and I did not know what I was doing and the consequences of my actions.”

“ And you are still a fool now and hungry for power! You wanted to be a princess so you betrayed father now you want to be a queen and you are trying to betray Jon.” rage distorted her little face into an expression so dark and ugly that Sansa will never forget. She never thought that so much hatred could soil her sister’s eyes. “ I won't let you take someone else from me, Sansa. Not him. If you try something against Jon, I will kill you.”

Sansa gasped and sobbed a little. She felt her face afire and wondered how much of her dismay was written on it.  
Ghost growled menacingly and took two step toward Arya. His teeth bared and his red eyes gleaming with animalistic warnings.

“ Enough! “ Jon’s voice resonated in the room.  
“ There will be no such thing between us! We are family no matter our differences. I refuse to hear one more threats or insults here. Do you understand? “

“ What? She can't be trusted! You can't yell at me for protecting you!”

“ It's enough, Arya! There won't be one more talk of this matter from now on!” he said, grabbing Arya and walking her to the door.  
Ghost growled at them when they approached Sansa. Jon’s eyebrows rose questioningly at his direwolf’s behaviors. Then, turned around to face Sansa.

“ And you, Lady Sansa, I don't want to see you out of your quarters from now on!”  
He said then turned in his heel and was gone with his little sister.

Sansa sat against the wall for a long time, hardly conscious of the terrified direwolf who licked her face, triying to stanch the tears. Once she had tried to persuade herself that everything would be better after they took back Winterfell. Now she knew differently. Jon and Arya had broken her heart beyond mending. And there were no place for her in Winterfell.

She threw her coat over her shoulders and with her heart racing, ran through the maze of halls and out of the castle. She rushed past the guards, pushing open the gates, She pressed a hand to her heart as a sob of relief caught in her throat. She was out and she was free, away from them.  
Maybe Ramsay was right. There will always be a piece of him in Winterfell haunting her. Thus, she could not find happiness even after she got her home back. When there were no grief and guilt over the death of Rickon, there were the sweet torture of yearning for Jon - her own brother. And now she was a traitor. A betrayer of her own King and blood.  
She was ruined beyond repair.

Sansa kept running upon the snow until the shape of the castle ceased to tower above her. It grew small behind her as the snow overtake her vision. There were no place to hide or go to.  
The King's Road was endless. She looked around, fighting the urge to go back to safety.  
The bitter bite of winter winds on her skin was so sharp she thought her skin would fall off.  
The blue ache in her flesh was nothing compared to the pain in her own heart.  
She’d never thought of father's death beyond the narrowed lenses of Joffrey betrayal of her and his cruelty. But Arya’s words made her realise that she had been instrumental in father's death.  
Then, there were aunt Lysa’s death that she covered for her own sake and Petyr’s safety.  
She’d felt so much thrill and pleasure after she successfully lied at the trial. Oh Gods!  
She could have saved Rickon if she had informed Jon about her plan and the Knights of the Vale. But she wanted to take Ramsay by surprise. She did not even hesitate when the thought of Rickon not making it alive did cross her mind.  
Her, and no one else, bore the blame for so much human misery.  
Depression clamped down her spine and became a despair so dark that Sansa worked her muscles into fatigue but she did not stop.  
She walked again and again…

 

Sansa opened her eyes and blinked into the soft glow of shielded lamplight, the languor of deep sleep still weighting her body. The figure before her came into focus: Jon. He smiled, the smile spreading around the lines of his mouth to his eyes.

 

“ I'm glad you awoke.” he said. His hand holding hers under the cover.  
Sansa blinked and looked around her, she was in the Lord bedchamber.

“ You scared me and everyone.”

“ Why am I here?”

“Because it’s the only quiet place where no one would disturb you while Maester Meddrick tend to you.”

“ Maester? “

“ Yes.” he said, his expression darkening. “ You don't remember anything? Ghost found you and led me to you. You were so cold and deadly pale I thought you were dying. You stayed unconscious for two days.”

Oh she remembered escaping the castle and walking alone in the cold.

“ I..I should go back to my bedchamber now.”  
She tried to rose but her muscles burned her back on the bed she felt the pain increasing quickly.

“ No, stay in bed,” he ordered. “You are still weak.”

“ You are not upset to have me here?” she asked, resting her head back on the pillow, and trying to shush her pain through careful breathing.

“ No! Of course not. Why would you even say that?”

“Last time I saw you I was a traitor to you and you confined me to my quarters as a punishment.” she said, glancing at him.

“ I was wrong.” he sighed. “ Let's not speak of it anymore. All that matter is your recovery.”

“ It matter to me.”

“ Sansa…”

“ Jon, I want to leave...when I will recover, I want to leave Winterfell.” she blurted with ugency.

“ You can't be serious. You are the Lady of Winterfell you have responsibilities...you have your family here.”

“ Arya can be your Lady of Winterfell.”

“ Could you say such thing with a straight face?” he snorted.

“ it's best if we part our ways. Maybe I should go away for awhile.”

“ How could you say this to me when you made me raise an army to take back Winterfell for you? You said we could only be safe here and now you want to leave and turn your back on me?”

His voice was deep with disappointment. But Sansa did not care. Her mind was set on the idea of leaving and nothing would change it.

“ Family fight all the time but that does not mean we have to cut ties. Don't do things you would regret. And I won't let you leave. Your king won't allow it.”

“ You have no right.” Sansa said and a single traitorous tear slipped out of her eye.

“ I have all the rights as your brother and guardian and even more as your king.”

She stared up at him, a spark of anger in her eyes; somehow he had put her in the wrong, she could see it in his face. Him and Arya were the ones who made her feel so small and unwelcomed here and now he was blaming her for trying to leave to accommodate them. He thought her selfish and immature for taking such stance.

“ You know you don't want me here.” she said at last. Still, hoping that he would agree to her departure.

“ You don't know what I want from you. You would never know Sansa…” he said with

“ You made it clear by the way you treated me.” her voice bitter and full of accusations.

He did not say a word back to her for a while. He kept tracing oval patterns on the back of her hand with his fingers.

“ How did we end up here? So estranged and cross with each other.” he sighed.

“ You know when it started. Although I cannot understand why.” she whispered.

“ We got our sister back and we ceased to be brother and sister. We became strangers just like before...or even worse”

She did not reply, her heart heavy and her eyes flooded with tears.

“ That is, maybe because we were never like brother and sister before Arya came back. Maybe we just did not know how to be siblings and Arya’s arrival forced us to see the error in our way…” Jon mumbled to himself.

“ I was always your sister. I think...I think I tried really hard to hold on to my brother but you gave up on me.”

“ Did you really? Were you holding on to your brother when your hands wrapped around my neck every nights to keep me close?”

“ I was...I was trying…”

“ We slept in this bed just like your parents used to do and we held each other...touched each other like...like the Lord and the Lady of Winterfell used to do to protect each other. We were close Sansa. Too close but not like brother and sister.”

“ You can't know…”

“I know. I know. I have another sister beside you and I would never hold her the way I held you here.” he said those words almost with desperation. “ It does not feel right.”

“ Why? Why can you be with her with no issue, laugh with her and spend your time with her but it is wrong somehow when it comes to me.”

“ I don't know.” he spat then closed his eyes. “ Actually I know why. I can recognise it for what it is and you should too.”

“I don't.” she shook her head. She refused to put words into her feelings and soil the only thing she deemed good in her life. She refused.

“ You know how much I want to be good in this role. How much I want to succeed where Robb had failed, how much I wish to avoid our father's mistakes. Being a King makes a man vulnerable. One bad move, one decision or non decision could result to death.”

“ Jon but why…”

“ Robb only made the mistake to love the wrong woman. Father made the mistake to chose principles and his honor over pragmatism. I won't do those things. I refuse to fail. Because if I die no one would be there to protect you and Arya.”

“ Jon it has nothing to do with me...With us. I want you to be my brother. I want you to be with me. “ she pushed his hand up against her chest, desperately hoping that his contact would soothe the bleeding wound in her heart.

He shook his head, “ No. No you know it has everything to do with that. When I'm your brother I do bad things. I rush further into that path that can end me. It would end me.”

“ But you can be Arya’s brother just fine? “

“ Being Arya’s brother is easy...it's safe. That's why I spent so much time with her. I wanted to be reminded of what it should be like.”

“ And you pushed me away.”

“ So I could learn to be better. A better brother.”

“ I adore you…” she blurted when she was at loss convincing arguments. He kept slipping away from her hold and she no longer had the strength to keep him.

“ Sansa…”

“ Even when you don't listen to my advices and argue with my inklings. I still adore you.”

She let the word sink in before she breathed. “ I know how much you care and how much you are frightened of doing so. I know your fears, I’ve shared your joy, laughters, and pain with you. But I did not know…”

“ What?...”

“ That you could be so cruel.”

“ Cruel?”

“Cruel to me and to yourself. You thought you could bear this burden on your own. You blamed me for it and poisoned your heart against me.”

 

“ Sansa, no! That's not what happened.”

“ Like always you don’t listen to me. Even when it comes to something we share.” she laughed sadly while tears drenching her face. “ You weren't alone in this but you thought it fair to decide on what to do about our feelings without me.”

“ Please don't name it. I can barely tolerate myself for letting such thing get into me do not…”

“ You thought it was fair to hurt me because of your own feelings. I'm not to blame for that. Neither are you, Jon. In your effort to detest me, you started doubting my loyalty.”

“ Sansa, I’ve read that letter too. You said those terrible things that if they came from anyone else, I would have had that person beheaded for treason and conspiracy against the Throne.”

She swallowed hard. Maybe he was right. “ The same way you made your heart blue against me, mine did not tolerate the rejection. I was angry and confused.”

“You wrote those words…” His voice was low but his eyes held so much emotions Sansa thought she would never cease crying.  
She did not even know why she was crying anymore. She felt bad for so many reasons could not name them.

“I asked you if you wanted Winterfell. I wanted to give it to you to avoid this but you refused. You said you trusted me, you said I was a Stark to you.”

“ And you are! I'm so sorry for the words I said. I am only apologising for the way they came to be not for the feeling that ignited them. You, Jon pushed me in that place.”

“ In a place where you would betray me?”

“ No!” Sansa hissed, his words cutting her open, “ I would never betray you. But I cannot help the way I feel and react when...when I'm heartbroken. I only wanted to write those words down so to release myself from the pain.”

“ Then, why did you write to him? That's something I don't understand. If your letter was not meant to leave your side why him?”

“ Because when you removed yourself from me, you left me with no one else.”

 

“ Ha! It's my fault then?”

 

“ No. It's no one’s fault.”

 

They did not say anything for a very long time.

Jon moved onto the bed and sat next to her. Sansa sat up straight, trembling a little. She did not know how they would live with each other, next to each, after sharing the truth of their hearts.  
She wondered if she could let him go back to ignoring her and hiding behind Arya -knowing that her love was reciprocated. It would be unbearable.

“ When I found you I realised that we don't have to change what we are. So what if I can't give to you the brotherly love I give to Arya? It does not matter, it is just the way of things. I won't push you away anymore.”

“ But you said you did not want us to be close because it could end you…” she said, alarmed after she sensed the change in him.

“ We are all going to meet our end one way or another. If mine is here in this bed with you so be it.”

“You would fail just like father and Robb...you would hurt Arya…” she cried. It was the last warning. If one of them wanted to run away from this it was now or never.

“ I'm already hurting her by hiding this from her and pretending to be someone I'm not.”

“You know what it would mean to her...It would be like taking someone else from her.”

“ No one can take me from my little sister and no one can keep me away from you. Even my honor succumbed.”

Jon inclined his head and she had the thought to pull back. To move her head, to push him away…to just say no. And, yet she didn’t move to do any of those things. Instead, she moved in to meet his lips.  
The kiss was hesitant at first. Just a simple brushing of his lips on hers. Very tender like his embrace during those nights when she used to sleep wrapped around him. She opened her eyes and found his watching her. Watching if the consequences of their actions could take root in a physical way. But there were nothing but honesty and vulnerability in their eyes. So they closed them again to dive in the kiss.

His mouth, soft, and warm and perfectly aggressive as it pressed down on hers. The embrace moved from sibling affection to passion and she forgot about everything.  
Sansa parted her lips and took the kiss, wishing for conflicting things - for everything to change and nothing to change.  
She tried to breathe as his tongue dragged over hers - lazy and sensual and so forbidden. Jon pulled her in, pushing her further down on the bed. When she tried for a split second to hold him off, he cupped his hand to the back of her head and she surrendered, taking the kiss as hard as he wanted to give it.  
“Don't be scared.” he said, holding her to him.

He added more pressure, deepened the kiss, pushing her on her back and moved atop her. the thump of her pulse thundered through her cunny when his weight pressed against her body.  
They started kissing angrily, and pressing their lips everywhere they could reach. But their touch remained gentle and careful.  
Jon removed his tunic and asked her silently if he could remove her shift. She nodded.  
He pulled her body to him and discarded the garment.  
His hand wound into her hair as his lips burned across her throat. She was intoxicated by the musky scent of his skin, the weight of his palms around her breasts, the warm melody of his sighs in her ears. Sansa was deranged with desire, drunk with energy and love, and desperate to be possessed by him.

“ Oh Sansa, you can't know how much I've yearned for this. It feels too good...cannot be wrong...when it feels this way.” he groaned against her skin.

She closed her eyes as he worshipped her full body with his lips, pressing her thighs open to nuzzle her damp center, lapping her up hungrily, his tongue unleashing soft moans of pleasure from Sansa's lips as her head fell back against the silk cushions in a haze of pleasure.  
But she lost the ability to discern anything at all as his body entered hers.  
They gave themselves up to one another, now not as their forbidden passion directed them, but as their own choice as a man and woman who hungered for each other.  
As they came together, Jon kept chanting her name and repeating how much he loved her.  
She cried of pleasure, pain, and joy all in the embrace of the only man she truly loved.

When they were done, they sat up in bed, and Jon grabbed a platter of lemoncakes from the nightstand, putting a piece into his mouth and then he fed some to Sansa.

“ I was wondering what I could do to go back onto your good grace and Arya came up with this idea.”

 

“ Hummm” Sansa closed her eyes enjoying her preferred sweetmeat.

 

“ She said, and I quote ‘ Give her lemoncakes, she is so stupid about it she would forgive you anything.’ “  
He laughed. Jon enjoyed feeding her and would kiss her after every morsel he put into her mouth. When they were finished, he put the empty platter on the nightstand.

“ I'm sorry for the way I treated you the night you came to me, inquiring about Arya. You caught me at a bad moment.”

“ No. I shouldn't have suggested a marriage for Arya. It is not up to me. You are her guardian.”

 

“ You did nothing wrong. I was just frustrated because before you found me in my study I was conversing with Lord Manderly about the same topic. He wish to marry one of his sons to you.”

Sansa’s eyebrows rose. She could not believe that someone still considered her as worthy of a union.

“ Which one?” she asked.

Jon gave her a hard look. “ Why does it matter? They both look like a spitting image of their father.”

 

“ Still, I need to know if…”

 

“ It doesn't matter Sansa, I already refused his offer.” he said, unruffled.

 

“ You did that without consulting me?” she gave a gritty laugh.

 

“I did not know if you would accept the marriage offer and I didn’t want to give you the opportunity to do so.” he grinned mischievously.

“ Oh that's so Kingly of you!” she laughed and shook her head. He kissed her hard then poked her nose.

“ So when you came to me speaking of marriage and such, I snapped.” he admitted and blushed.

Sansa cupped his face feeling overwhelmed with tenderness and love for him. “ So you have no plans of marrying your sister? Obviously you can’t marry me yourself.”

“ No one in this world is worthy of you.” he chuckled, “ Which makes it easy for me to keep you by my side.”

“ I love you.” she kissed him hard and for a very long, long moment until her lips bruised under his mouth.

“ I need you to assist me at my meeting with Lord Reed, tonight.” he whispered to her after he’d wrapped their spent bodies against each other.

“ Lord Reed of Greywater Watch?”

Jon nodded. “ He arrived last night when you were still asleep. He did not come to declare to me when I was crowned like the other Lords did. I'm guessing, he came now to give his regards.”

“ He was father's friend.”

“He thinks his days are numbered and that he won't survive Winter that is why he wish to talk to me…”

Sansa frowned. “ If he is sick why did he take the risk to travel through this weather?”

“ It must be very important.” he whispered back. “ Do you think the Lady of Winterfell could tend to her functions tonight?”

“l would love that.” she mumbled against his lips as his lips descended on hers.

He took her again and again until their bodies could no longer convert their passion. When they left the room to meet with Howland Reed, they were ready to face the world together- as the King in the North and his Lady of Winterfell, with nothing but love.


End file.
